


let your secrets sleep

by problematic_pleasures



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 19:39:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13348137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematic_pleasures/pseuds/problematic_pleasures
Summary: i can't make it if we can't take this across the lineIn the dead of night, Carl decides—with a healthy amount of encouragement from Negan—he can't keep a secret any longer.





	let your secrets sleep

**Author's Note:**

> yo! i have seen exactly four eps of the new season (1,2,7,8) and i have _no_ idea what's happening (i only watched bc i needed to see the carl scenes, tbh) so this is totally not canon compliant, exists in some universe where carl isn't gonna die and negan and carl are boning.
> 
> just a random little one-off. 
> 
> enjoy!

Carl feels the phantom weight of eyes on him as he slinks through nighttime in Alexandria. He’s sticking close to walls and buildings, away from lights and anyone who might be looking out a window this time of night. He knows he’s being overly paranoid, but that knowledge doesn’t make him _stop_. He sneaks as quietly as he can, wary and cautious of stray pebbles and branches waiting to crack underfoot. It seems to take eons but eventually he ends up at the doorstep to Negan’s makeshift home—one of the nicer but smaller houses in Alexandria that he only takes up occasionally—and he doesn’t bother knocking.

He slips inside and locks the door behind him, then turns toward the stairs ready to take them two at a time, when suddenly the light in the living room flicks on. Carl is bathed in an amber glow, just bright enough to let him see but not enough for finer details. His gaze is immediately drawn to the plush, tattered leather couch that’s sitting in the dead center of the room. He traces the outline of Negan’s silhouette, his arms thrown across the back of the couch and his head tilting lazily. He can’t see Negan’s grin, but he knows it’s there.

Carl toes off his shoes and walks slowly toward the older man. He’s still on edge, certain that at any moment someone will jump out, scream “ _gotcha!_ ”, then run off and tell Rick. He stumbles over to the couch and lets Negan pull him into his lap. He lets Negan strip him of his jacket and two shirts underneath, and lets Negan slip the belt from the hoops of his jeans. When the broad, weathered hands fall to the button and zipper, Carl stops him.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this,” he says softly.

Negan laughs and shakes his head. “You say that every time, kid.” He flicks open the button with just one thick thumb, and when he grins up at Carl, he can finally make out the details. The gleaming yellow-white of Negan’s teeth and the split on his lip from a recent scuffle with a couple rowdy saviors. The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and the five o’clock shadow framing his face.

Carl lets Negan kiss him, lets Negan bite his lower lip and soothe the sting with a soft suck. Negan laughs against his mouth again, and draws the zipper down slowly. “You don’t really mean that, you never do.” He taunts. His knuckles graze the stiffening bulge in Carl’s boxers, and his grin only widens.

“No,” Carl hisses, even as his hips push into the touch. “ _Yes_ , I mean it.” He amends before swallowing a gasp. “No, I can’t keep doing this. It’s too much. I can’t keep sneaking around.”

Negan smirks against Carl’s neck. Carl tilts his head to the side and lets Negan busy himself with leaving bruises all along his jugular. Carl doesn’t push him away until Negan starts repeating spots; even then, Carl’s attempt is half-hearted. Negan just chuckles and his hot breath chills Carl’s heated, abused skin.

“I told’ya, kiddo,” Negan teases, emphasis on the nickname he knows Carl hates. “We don’t _have_ to keep sneaking around.” He rolls his hips upward and grinds his erection against the curve of Carl’s ass. “I’m happy to parade you around like the fine little specimen you are.”

Carl tries to scowl but he only manages to moan and arch his back when one of Negan’s hands slides down the back of his jeans.

“Let ‘em all see those pretty little lovebites I give you. Let ‘em see how good I fuck you, huh?” Negan kisses Carl again and bites his lip even harder, to remind Carl who he belongs to. His fingers slide between Carl’s cheeks and he slips two into his hole without preamble, grumbling happily when he finds Carl already slicked and stretched. “M’not saying I gotta fuck you _in front_ of them.” Negan chortles again and looks far too pleased with himself.

“I know.” Carl breathes, shifting and squirming in Negan’s lap to help him get his jeans off. Negan’s hands move recklessly and finally Carl slides off his lap and lets his jeans pool on the ground instead. He tugs down his boxer briefs and tosses them aside. By the time he settles back into Negan’s lap, the older man’s cock is out and stiff and leaking precome. “I just—I _can’t_.”

Negan shakes his head and Carl lets him guide their bodies together. He lets Negan take him by the hips and lets Negan pull him down, effortlessly pushing his cock past the slackened muscles of Carl’s asshole. Carl gasps and tilts his head back; he clenches as he sinks down and takes just a moment to revel in Negan’s surprised gasp. He braces his hands on Negan’s shoulders and rolls his hips until Negan’s cock is flush inside him, then resolves to let Negan do all the work.

He doesn’t even need to say it, though. Negan’s grip on his waist hurts with how tight it is, how rough. He lets Negan yank him up, like he’s weightless, and lets Negan drag him back down to meet every single punishing thrust. Carl falls against him like a ragdoll; he clings to Negan as he bounces, moaning obscenely in his lover’s ear until Negan growls. They don’t need words now, so far into their animalistic pleasure, and Carl obediently leans back far enough so that Negan can kiss him.

Carl kisses back. He takes initiative and licks into Negan’s mouth, shuddering at the rasp of stubble grazing his skin. It burns and he can’t help but whine into the kiss. Negan half-laugh, half-moans and suddenly Carl’s whole world tilts. Negan presses him into the couch and his thrusts pick up speed and force. He brutally pounds into Carl, so hard that Carl has to let go of Negan’s shoulders to grip the arm of the couch instead. His hands scramble over the leather until eventually his fingertips catch in a tear in the fabric and he can take hold.

He arches his back and rolls against the thrusts. “My d-dad,” he groans, hiding his face against his arm.

“Oh, c’mon, doll, don’t bring him up now. None of that.” Negan kisses him sweetly, disarmingly so, and Carl melts. “Who gives a fuck, anyway?”

“I do.” Carl insists as he tears away from the kiss. “I care.”

Negan shakes his head and laughs darkly. He sits back on his haunches and fucks slow and hard and pushes at Carl’s chest with one huge hand. He toys with Carl’s pink, pert nipples as he speaks. “No, you don’t. You _wanna_ care,” he murmurs. “But you don’t. You don’t give two shits about them. You like gettin’ dicked, you like fuckin’ people up, and I want you to be _proud_ of it.” The hand toying with Carl’s chest drops down to curl around his cock and stroke him with quick and harsh movements.

Carl finally opens his eye, not realizing he’d ever closed it in the first place, and watches Negan with a heavy-lidded gaze. He opens his mouth to protest further but Negan twists his hand over the head of Carl’s dick, over and over until Carl starts to writhe. He opens his mouth but all that comes out are desperate pants and gasps and moans.

“That’s it, baby,” Negan coos. His thrusts slow, and he draws out until only the swollen tip is inside Carl. “Come for me, n’then tomorrow morning lemme parade you all over the town, show ‘em what a good boy you are for me, huh?” He pushes in inch by inch until his balls slap against Carl’s ass. Then he does it again, and again, all the while muttering softly— _“come on, come for me, be a good boy, come for me.”_

Carl does and he screams during it. His back arches painfully and his come spurts out across his stomach, over Negan’s chest and staining his already grimy shirt. He digs his nails into the couch hard enough to hurt and his throat feels raw by the time his scream dies down to whimpers. Negan doesn’t say anything else but he fucks into Carl fast and short; he chases his own pleasure swiftly and drops forward as his thrusts turn erratic. He presses his forehead against Carl’s cheek and moans as he starts to come.

Carl focuses on the sensation of Negan’s cock pulsing inside him, filling him with come and pushing it deeper with every motion. Negan slows eventually, but doesn’t pull out. He falls on Carl and smothers him in heat and heavy breaths. Negan grins against Carl’s neck and kisses an especially vibrant bruise on the pale skin.

Carl sighs and lets go of the couch after his arms start to ache. He winds them around Negan’s shoulders again, then curls his legs around the older man’s waist. Negan leans back and takes Carl with him, lifting him with ease and carrying him toward the stairs. They make it to Negan’s sparsely furnished room without a single stumble—the trek is by now one too familiar to both of them—but fall onto the bed in a graceless tangle of limbs.

Carl watches Negan undress when he finally parts. Already nude, Carl stretches out on the covers and when the chill of sweat stains his skin he tugs a thin blanket over his lower half. Negan undresses without fanfare and crawls under the covers as well, immediately tangling their legs. Carl lets Negan gather him into his arms and lets Negan pepper his face with kisses. It’s sweet, overly so, like the kiss before. It still throws Carl off when Negan displays these moments of tenderness. But he can’t help but revel in them, in the warmth and softness so unlike everything else in their lives.

“What do you say, kid?” Negan asks quietly against Carl’s hair.

Carl resolutely doesn’t look up at Negan’s face, unsure of what he’ll find there. Unsure of how he’ll handle whatever expression Negan is wearing. He focuses on Negan’s chest and toys with the thick curls of black chest hair under his touch. He bites his lip, gnaws the skin till it’s angry and hurt, until Negan’s breathing is almost even enough that he could be sleeping.

“Okay,” Carl whispers. He tilts his head slowly and keeps his eye closed and lets Negan take him gently by the chin. “Okay.” He breathes out the word with his exhale, half-hoping the nonexistent wind in the room might sweep it away.

Negan grins when Carl lets him initiate another kiss. “That’s my boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> by the way, i'll be at walker stalker con this weekend (1/12-1/14) in portland, OR! hit me up on my tumblr if you wanna meet up!


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